


Flower you doing?

by savvysp



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mobtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe- CraftTale (Undertale), CraftTale Sans (Pin), F/M, Mobtale Sans - Freeform, brief mentions of rape/noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27265702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvysp/pseuds/savvysp
Summary: A collection of drabbles to help me improve my writing skills!One (or more) story for each Soul trait, all with an M/C named after a flower relating to their traits and a different Sans/Papyrus pairing for each one.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Original Female Character(s), Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. Black Eyed Susan- Justice

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Sorry I disappeared for.. gosh months now. It wasn't my intention! But AmyScarlet and I have been overwhelmingly busy, and my work has finally loosened up while Amy is still pretty jam packed. So while I wait for her to free up some time in her schedule to work on Sweet Redemption, I wanted to polish my writing skills and work on my descriptions a bit... So now we have these drabble/one-shot/whatever you want to call them to hold you over (hopefully)
> 
> Hope you enjoy ^.^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan may be in over her head when she finds herself hunting a mob boss, only to put herself in the sights of someone far more dangerous

_‘Just my luck_ ,’ she thought angrily as she reached into the freezer and pulled out her designated ice pack, ‘ _I finally get a lead and one lucky hit nearly ruins it all!’_

“Heyyyy Suzie Q, whatcha got there?” Came a teasing voice from the breakroom entrance, “Nursing another wound eh?”

_Clinton Jones_. She cursed internally. Slamming the freezer door shut, she turned to glare at the offending officer. “It’s Susan, thank you very much, and yes _another_ wound. That I got in the field, you remember the field right? _Meter maid_.” She sneered. Susan had been on the police force nearly a year now and Clinton had constantly made it a point to send sexist jabs her direction. With his crooked teeth and bulbous nose, the stocky officer was far from her idea of attractive— the twenty-year age gap didn’t help— but he seemed to have it in his head that she should worship the ground he walked on.

When she rejected his advances her first day on the job, he began belittling her for her small, feminine figure, insisting that she wouldn’t be able to handle fieldwork when she had been assigned his partner. He spent weeks trying to convince the Lieutenant to put her on ticket duty, saying it was better suited to ‘a lady of her stature’ and for a while there, Susan worried he might actually convince the Lieutenant to take away everything she had worked so hard to achieve. ~~Thankfully~~ Unfortunately, a heart condition brought on from years of alcohol abuse had resulted in Clinton turning in his gun for a ticket book.

“Looks like a nasty one, you sure your pretty face can handle all that abuse? I’m sure the Lieutenant would understand if you wanted to trade it in for something a little… _safer_.” Condescension dripped from his tongue like venom, and his steely gray eyes locked onto the bruise blossoming from her left eye. “I hate seeing a pretty young thing like you with such an ugly disfigurement, and with no partner to back you up I can only imagine how many more of these little marks you’re going to get.”

How a man in his position could still be so full of himself was beyond her and, realizing she shouldn’t let him get under her skin, she took a deep breath and released her anger. Letting this sexist pig rile her up wouldn’t help anyone, “It’s a black eye Jones, I think I’ll live.” She says exasperated, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some reports to write.”

Before he can comment any further, she shoves past him and heads straight for her desk, eager to finish her report and leave for the day. She’s got a date with an ice-cold Moscow Mule and there’s no way she’s going to be late. Rushing through the last of her work, Susan bids farewell to her fellow officers and hails a cab to take her home.

The past year has been full of all kinds of new adventures for Susan. She hadn’t always lived in Ebott City, in fact, she had never lived anywhere with a population of more than 500 cows. Growing up on a cattle ranch, all she had ever wanted was to live in the big city, and the crime dramas she grew up watching with her father only cemented that desire. When the opportunity to become an officer at the ECPD came up, she couldn’t refuse and though her family missed her dearly, she doesn’t regret taking the chance.

Genuinely happy that she had accomplished her dreams, her family set her up with a decent apartment in the city. The cute, one bedroom on the fifth floor had been wondrous when she first arrived, but walking up all those steps every day, sometimes with grocery bags or other items in hand, had quickly lost its charm. The location wasn’t ideal either, situated just outside of mafia territory, Susan had gotten used to hearing gunshots in the distance.

But as she wipes the steam that’s collected on her mirror from the shower, she knows this is where she belongs. Her soul cries out for Justice and she’s determined to do everything in her power to make this world a little bit better, for all the innocent souls out there. Smiling at her reflection, she pulls her long, golden hair back into a tight bun, not bothering to dry it tonight.

The bruise around her eye has darkened, taking on a deep purple hue. Thankfully the lid has only swollen slightly, she’s still able to see both of her green eyes clearly. Tenderly touching a finger to the area, she hisses at the pain. If she wants to get by unnoticed, she’s going to need to cover this up. Pulling out her makeup kit, she begins covering up the marking while mentally preparing herself for the task ahead.

Satisfied with her work she pulls on her best little black dress and heels, then takes an appraising look in the mirror before locking up and starting for her destination.

Before the asshat earlier managed to get a hit in, Susan had gotten the name of a bar where the bane of her existence frequented. _Dimitri Semenov_ , a powerful member of the Russian mafia who had been responsible for the rape and murder of dozens of innocent women across Ebott City, among other things. When she first arrived in the city, her neighbor, Chrissy, had welcomed her with open arms. The two had become fast friends and within months Chrissy had become the sister Susan wished she’d had.

Everything had been wonderful until the call came in that Chrissy had been the latest victim in Dimitri’s slew of crimes. Susan had been enraged, desperate to bring him down for his offenses but she was denied the request to work Chrissy’s case, she wasn’t in homicide after all. When the detectives responsible for the case determined there wasn’t enough evidence to pin Dimitri down, Susan decided to take matters into her own hands.

Many months, fruitless leads, and black eyes later, Susan finds herself standing before _Tatiana’s._ The front of the bar is unassuming aside from the flashing neon sign with the establishments name. The exterior is completely brick with small windows too high to be able to see the interior and one large, red door is guarded by two massive bouncers, one human with slicked back blonde hair and an eye patch _mostly_ covering a massive scar across his left eye, and the other a wolf monster with a similar scar across his left eye. The monster didn’t hide his scar with a patch though, he wore it proudly and if the milky color of his eye was any indication, the scar had left him half blind but no less intimidating. If everything goes sideways in here, it’ll be hard to get out and with no weapon, she’d be up shit creek without a paddle.

Approaching the bouncers, she keeps a calm façade as she shoots a wink in their direction, “Hey boys, do either of you know where I can get a decent drink around here?” Popping her hip out and placing a hand on her side, she watches at two sets of eyes trail up and down her figure and with a sleazy smile, the human bouncer nods his head towards the entrance. “Well aren’t you just the hospitable one, thanks sweetheart.” Before she reaches the door, the wolf monster reaches a furry arm out to stop her.

Afraid that she’s been caught already, Susan tries to remain calm as she looks up at the monster questioningly. “Sorry _sweetheart_ ,” He says mockingly, “but rules say we gotta do a pat down first. Make sure yer not carrying anything _nefarious_.”

Relief floods her system, she had been expecting this, it’s why she left her gun behind. Smiling sweetly, she bats her eyelashes at the bouncer and says, “Of course, but you’ll find the only thing _nefarious_ here is the pair of you.” Flirtation is a dangerous game, one wrong move could get her into trouble, but she needs to get inside this bar and like momma always said, ‘you catch more flies with honey.’

Bringing her arms up to a T, she waits patiently as the monster runs his paws over every inch of her body looking for weapons. Thankfully, he doesn’t appear to be using this pat down as an excuse to fondle her—an excuse she’s certain the human guard would have used— and after a thorough search he nods his head and lets her pass. “Thanks boys, have a good night!” She waves as she walks through the door.

The scent of cigarette smoke and liquor fills her nostrils as she enters the dank bar. Plush red booths line the outside of the room with round tables scattered throughout the center. Towards the back Susan can see a large stage where a bunny monster appears to be dancing to the music that reverberates throughout the club while men and monster alike throw money at her naked form. To the right of the stage she can see a red curtain where the private rooms must be located, and to the left is a bar lit up with low lights that fluctuate between green and blue.

Walking towards the bar, she ignores the cat calls she receives until she snatches the cleanest pleather stool she can find and orders her Moscow Mule. Pretending to sip on the drink, she leans her back against the bar and feigns interest in the show as she scans the room for Dimitri.

Time seems to drag on forever as she waits, and eventually she wonders if the information that lead had given her was false. Just as she’s about to give up for the night, a tall man with ice blue eyes steps out from behind the red curtain. He’s wearing an expensive looking suit and each of his fingers is adorned with a heavy golden ring. Even with the receding hairline he’s an attractive man, and definitely the one she’s been waiting for.

She watches as he crosses the room and makes his way past the bouncer guarding the staircase to the second floor. It’s hard to see what’s up there with the low lighting, but his flashy outfit catches the light and she can tell he’s sat down at the edge of the bannister to enjoy the show. _The pig._

Seeing him causes her anger to flare, he’s walking around without a care in the world, after everything he’s done!? Where is the _justice_? Where is the _law_? What can she do to stop him, to get him off the streets and prevent any more women from suffering the same cruel fate her friend did?

“man dollface, if looks could kill then that gentleman would be in fer a _real_ bad time.” The deep Brooklyn accent behind her catches her off guard and she stills. Has she been caught already?

Slowly turning around to see who approached her, Susan finds herself face to face with an enormous skeleton monster. Standing at least six and a half feet tall, he’s wearing black dress pants held up by suspenders that dangle over a smooth white button up shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His suit jacket is tossed over his shoulder and his fedora is tilted precariously forward. For a skeleton, he seems to be built fairly wide and his skull doesn’t resemble that of a human, it’s more rounded with teeth pulled back into a sly grin. The bone around his mouth and eyesockets appears malleable, and if the wink he just shot her way is any indication, he must have some sort of eyelid.

“’course, if you were lookin’ to get cuffed tonight, all ya gotta do is ask.” He practically purrs at her, leaning in closer and giving her a better look into his eyesockets. Deep within the black void, she can see a pair of soft, red, round eyelights that hold more emotion that she’d expect. They seem to dance amusedly within his sockets as they hold her gaze, “now doll, i’m used to leavin’ dames speechless but i’m feelin’ pretty lonesome tonight and it’d be a damn shame if i didn’t at least get yer name. care ta share with the class?” His tone is light, not quite mocking, and it snaps her out of her stupor.

Sitting up straight, she relaxes her face and smiles up at the flirtatious monster, “Pardon my manners,” she says too sweetly, “but I don’t recall you introducing yourself either?”

The skeleton blinks twice at her, apparently surprised that she didn’t already know who he was, before bursting out into loud laughter that attracts a few unwanted glares. Suppressing the urge to shift nervously in her seat, she waits for the skeleton’s laughter to die down. When he finally seems to collect himself, he wipes a small red tear from the corner of his eyesocket and smiles down at her, “yer somethin’ else dollface. the name’s sans, sans fontaine.” He reaches out a bony hand in greeting and Susan can feel the blood drain from her face.

Fontaine, as in top (mad) dog Fontaine of the monster mafia!? One of the notorious skeleton brothers responsible for numerous human deaths across the city!? She’d heard whispers of the two brothers around the precinct, the eldest brother suspected—and never convicted—of no less than 50 murders over the past several years. The youngest connected to—and again, never convicted— the underground fight clubs that pit humans against each other in fights to the death for the entertainment of the elite monsters and humans willing to pay a pretty penny.

_Calm down Susan, if you start panicking now he may get violent_. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you sooner Mr. Fontaine, the name’s Sherry.” She says, reaching out to shake his hand. Briefly, she notes the large golden ring on his right hand, ruby centerpiece flashing the color of blood.

Sans takes her hand in his and brings it up to his teeth, a small spark warming her hand where it connects as the two maintain eye contact, “that was a lie.” He says matter-of-factly, red eyelights never leaving her surprised green eyes. At her obvious surprise, the corners of his mouth pull back to further his sultry smile, “let’s try that one more time,” he continues, squeezing her hand firmly, but not painfully. “the name’s sans fontaine, and you are?”

Susan can’t help swallowing the lump in her throat, he knows she lied, how much does he know? Would it be more harmful to try and fool him again, or give him her actual name? Maybe she can get away with a half truth… “You’re good Mr. Fontaine, it takes a certain ma—monster,” she corrects, “to catch on that quickly. My name’s Susan.” She squeezes his hand back slightly, daring him to correct her again.

“heh, that’s better. and please, just call me sans, _susan_.” He says her name like he’s tasting a fine wine, and the sound sends a shiver of… _something_ , down her spine. “a little ironic, don’t you think?” He says, releasing her hand and taking a seat on the stool next to her. Nodding at the bartender, he relaxes in his seat and smiles at her.

“What’s ironic?” She asks in confusion, watching as the bartender approaches to leave a glass filled with a swirling amber liquid in front of Sans.

He tilts his head at the man in gratitude and takes a slow drink from his glass, “yer name. ‘s just as lovely as the flower, _black-eyed susan_.” Smirking at her from behind the rim of his glass, he watches as doubts flood her mind again.

This monster has already caught her in a lie, and now he seems to be teasing her about her black eye. This situation spells trouble and all the alarms in her head seem to be screaming at her to get out before he discovers any more secrets she’s trying to keep. “Well the bastard that gave it to me would probably agree with you.” She says through a forced smile before tossing back what’s left of her drink, “Well Mr. Fontaine, it’s been a pleasure meeting you but I think I should get going. Have a wonderful night!” Placing a few bills on the bar top, she stands and starts to head for the exit but is startled when she turns around to find Sans standing before her. Spinning her head around, she looks at the stool he had been occupying a few seconds ago and fear begins to cloud her mind. She’s been caught, _shit shit shit_ she’s dead!

Slowly facing the skeleton again, she wipes her sweaty hands on her dress and tries to smile through the nerves. Sans simply stands before her with both hands tucked behind his back. “N-neat party trick Sans, but I’ve never been one for magic tricks. Now if you’ll excuse me—” She’s cut off as something yellow is shoved in her face.

Black-eyed Susans! A whole bouquet of them is presented to her from the intimidating skeleton, and he stares with an expectant smile towards her. How this monster managed to move so quickly, and produce a bouquet of flowers out of nowhere is beyond her, and she really doesn’t want to find out what else he can conjure from nothing. With shaking hands, she reaches out to take the flowers from him, but when she does, he captures her hand and pulls her close to whisper in her ear.

“look doll, this has been a helluva lotta fun but i know what you are. half the men in here do, and if it weren’t fer the fact that yer sittin’ here with nothin’ but the clothes on yer back to defend yerself, you’d be dead where you stand. now the way i see it, you can come with me, tell me what yer doin’ here, or i can leave ya to the wolves that have been plottin’ which alley to have their way with you in.”

It takes all the effort Susan can muster to remain calm as blood rushes to her ears, drowning out all noise around them as her heart beats wildly in her chest. _Mama, Papa, I’m so sorry_ , she thinks as she stares with barely restrained panic at the dangerous monster before her. Will they know what happened to her? Will he hide her body somewhere it will never be found, or will he leave it on display for the world to see, broken and bloody with who knows what sort of injuries? Will her parents need to come identify her corpse? How could she do this to them, she’d been so reckless!

A warm, bony hand wraps around her waist, startling her from her morbid thoughts, “calm down doll, i’m jus havin a bit of fun wit ya. i’ll get you outta here safe n sound, as soon as ya tell me what the plan was.” Turning her eyes to finally look at the monster now beside her, she sees his eyelights extinguish, leaving a terrifying black void behind, “and this time, let’s tell the truth, huh?” He says menacingly.

“No.” She says simply, if not a little shakily. She brought this on herself, if she’s meant to die here tonight then so be it, but she’s not going to spill any secrets that could tip off that bastard Dimitri.

Her answer seems to have caught Sans off guard, because his eyelights pop back into existence and he stares at her in bewilderment, for just a moment before bursting out into another round of laughter and pulling her in closer. “oh doll, hehe, i knew you were special.” With a little pressure, he begins leading her towards the private rooms and Susan begins mentally saying goodbye to her loved ones.

Heart continuing to beat loudly in her chest, Susan closes her eyes and steels herself for what’s to come as they pass through the velvet curtain and walk straight into…

…

Peeking one eye open, Susan gasps as she realizes she’s in her apartment! Turning her head wildly, she searches the room for Sans who seems to have disappeared from sight. She runs to her front door to ensure all the locks are in place, before dropping to the ground and finally breathing for what feels like the first time in hours.

What just happened? How is she home? Did… did she ever leave in the first place? The thoughts swirl through her mind as she checks the time—11:43—and forces herself to go lay down. Maybe things will be a little clearer in the morning..

~~~~~

Eight restless hours later, Susan is walking through the doors of her precinct, still trying to make sense of last night when an alarming amount of chatter pulls her from her thoughts. Looking around the room, she sees her fellow officers talking in groups or running around with stacks of paperwork, and she stops one to ask what’s happened.

  
“Dimitri Semenov was murdered last night! His body was found strung up outside of Tatiana’s this morning. Some real sicko really did a number on him. Good riddance.” He spits, before running off to finish whatever it was he was doing.

Did she hear that right? Dimitri is… dead? She can hardly believe it as she heads to her desk in a daze, unsure of how she feels about the situation. On one hand, he can no longer hurt anymore innocents, but death without a trial? Without a chance for him to truly face what he’s done? It almost seems to easy…

And that’s when she sees the small note on her desk:

“heya doll,

sorry we didn’t get to spend much time together last night, must’ve seemed like i was _russian_ ya out the door. how’s about you let me make it up to ya with dinner tonight? 8pm. i’ll pick ya up at yer place.

-s.f.”


	2. Amaryllis- Determination (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartbroken and desperate, Amaryllis searches for help in a strange book gifted to her by a mysterious woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AmyScarlet offered up this pairing, and I was pretty excited to try it! 
> 
> CraftTale is the genius work of catler00 and I thank them for permission using their AU ^.^ (Hopefully I do it some justice and don't muck it up too much) If you haven't already, check out the comic! It's spectacular! 
> 
> Now this one is going to need at least two parts to get anywhere, so for now have part one!

“Jason please don’t do this” Amaryllis begged through teary eyes. For as long as she can remember she’s been in love with her childhood friend, Jason, with his thick, curly hair, startling green eyes, and the splattering of freckles across his face that she’s always sworn looked like small constellations. They had grown up living next door to each other; going to the same schools, playing with the same friends—even if said friends only stuck around for Jason— and even working the same part time jobs as teenagers. They shared similar interests, participated in the same clubs and sports, and she’d even gone so far as to apply to the same colleges as him, just to stay by his side.

Unfortunately, Jason has never returned her feelings, which should have been fine, she should have moved on and accepted that they would never work out… but she couldn’t. He’s her best friend, isn’t this how it’s supposed to work out? Don’t the best friends get together in all her favorite rom-coms? Why is he doing this to her now? What did she do wrong!?

“Amaryllis look,” Jason sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in that adorable way he’s always done, “You’re like a little sister to me okay? It’d just be weird, right? You can see that can’t you?” His eyes opened, locking onto hers with an intensity she’d wish was admiration, and not pity. _~~Stop looking at me like that.~~_

“But I love you.” She whimpered, unable to pull her gaze away from those piercing eyes. If this is goodbye, she wants to drink in every last detail.

“I love you too Ames, but not the way you want me to.” Placing his hand on her shoulder, his face softened as he looked at her, a mixture of guilt and pity swirling in his eyes, “I’m sorry it has to be this way… I hope one day we can be friends again. Goodbye.” His words hung in the air as he turned away from her, leaving her behind to move overseas for a college she hadn’t even known he applied for. How could he keep this a secret from her? Did he know she would follow him anywhere? _What is she supposed to do now?_

Too numb to respond, she watched his figure retreat into the distance until she’s left standing alone in the park they’d played in as children. The sun began to set, but still she stood there like a statue until the chill began to creep into her bones and exhaustion weighed heavy on her eyelids.

Slowly, she shuffled home, eyes glazed and blank as they stared ahead.

_“Hello young mage.”_ Came a raspy voice from the dark alley beside her.

Startled from her stupor, she squinted into the darkness, “W-who said that?” She asked hesitantly.

A hunched figure stepped out from the shadows to face her, an elderly woman with a cape as dark as night. Her eyes were glazed and milky, they had probably been vibrant red in her youth, but the years had not been kind and Amaryllis wondered if she could still see clearly. She was clutching a wooden cane with both hands, the top of which seemed to be intricately carved with some sort of three headed animal.

“What seems to be the problem young mage?” She rasped again, so close now that Amaryllis had to stifle a gag as a wave of hot, sour breath wafted towards her.

“Why do you keep calling me a mage?” Better yet, why is she still talking to this strange old woman?

“It’s in the eyes deary, and you’ve got quite a _beautiful_ set of bright, ruby red eyes.” Came the raspy response, confirming the old woman could clearly see.

Her red eyes had always been a novelty around their small town, stories quickly spreading when she was born about the strange color, but no one had ever called her a _mage_ before. Sure, neighbors had kept their distance and whispered about the oddity, but that’s why she’d been so grateful for Jason who had never been afraid of her.

_Jason._

“There it is again deary, what’s troubling you my little mage?” The old woman questioned gently.

“It’s… it’s nothing.” Amaryllis bit back the tears that threatened to fall, “Just… I’ve just had my heart broken and I’m not sure how to move on.” _Shut your mouth Ames, why are you still talking to this woman?_

“Ah yes, I know a thing or two about a broken heart.” The old woman nodded.

“You do?” Could she tell Amaryllis how to heal? How to move on when everything she’d ever loved has left her behind?

“Oh yes, and I know what can help.”

“You do!?” Amaryllis’ heart raced as she stared hopefully at the strange woman from the alley. Anything she can do to make this pain go away, she’ll happily give a chance.

Reaching into her cloak, the old woman pulled out an unassuming brown book. There was no cover art, no words, just a plain brown binding that gave no clues as to what lay inside. “This little book,” She rasped, “Can make all the hurt go away. For a price.”

For a price… all of her pain can go away? It couldn’t be that simple… “What kind of price?” She asked skeptically.

“Oh, that will become clear soon enough little mage.” And, handing Amaryllis the book, the old woman retreated back into the darkness from which she came.

Staring blankly at the spot the woman had just disappeared into, Amaryllis turned her attention back towards the book and examined the outside carefully, “Weird.” She muttered under her breath before heading back home, looking over her shoulder now and then to ensure that strange woman didn’t follow her.

Back in the comfort of her familiar home, she gave halfhearted hugs to her parents before trudging downstairs to her basement bedroom and falling backwards into bed, book in hand.

_There’s no way this thing can actually help me… right?_ She thought, before cracking the pages open to see what secrets lay inside.

Strange symbols filled most of the pages, Amaryllis recognized a few from various occult rituals she’d read about in history. Some of the writing within was scribbled in barely legible English, while the majority was made up of words written in a language she couldn’t understand.

One thing was certain: this book appeared to be full of spells. Spells that work? She wasn’t certain, but hadn’t that woman called her a Mage? Could there have been some hint of truth behind her words? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give one of these a try…

The following day, Amaryllis gathered all the supplies her strange new book required. The red candles and chalk needed to draw the necessary symbols were easy, but finding a heart that had never known hatred? It stumped her at first, Amaryllis wasn’t a murderer after all, she couldn’t just kill some innocent person because she was unhappy, but after mulling it over she decided that animals don’t truly feel hatred, perhaps that would work.

But she still wasn’t able to take the life of an innocent animal so she opted to purchase a pig’s heart—along with some meat, to lessen any suspicion—from the local slaughter house, receiving a few raised eyebrows but thankfully nothing more.

Bringing her supplies back home, Amaryllis locked her door and set to work recreating the pentagon pictured in her spell book. Setting the candles up around the circle, she tried not to think about what she was doing as she lit each one.

_It’s fine_ , she thought as she struck her match.

_It’s probably not even real,_ she told herself as she lit each flame. 

_What’s the worst that could happen?_ She worried as she placed the pig’s heart in the center of the pentagon and began reciting the strange words written on the pages before her.

After flipping through spell after spell, she had landed on one that repeatedly called to her every time she skimmed past it: Karma. Of all the various spells, this one seemed to be her best bet at finding happiness, perhaps she could invoke some sort of good karma that would lead Jason back to her? And if that wasn’t possible, then maybe it could bring some other form of happiness that she just couldn’t see right now. She’d never done anything bad after all, and isn’t karma repaid based on your actions?

As she recited the incantations something remarkable happened, the pages in her book began flipping wildly as if moved by a strong gust of wind, before the book was ripped from her grasp by an unseen force, landing at the edge of the pentagon.

A white flash blinded her momentarily and when her vision returned, she found herself standing in complete darkness, a set of large doors set between two tall pillars the only objects visible. Carved into the doors was a symbol; an orb with wings and three small triangles floating below it.

Hesitantly, she pushed the doors open enough to squeeze through, only to find herself shivering as she stepped into a wintery landscape. Stretching out before her was a snowy path flanked on each side by thick rows of tall, dead trees. The air was stagnant and hard to breath as she slowly crunched through the eerily quiet forest.

Step by shaky step, she made her way forward, jumping when the sound of snapping branches broke through the silence. Whipping her head around, she searched the darkness for signs of life, but found nothing.

_Oh God, this was a mistake,_ she thought desperately as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. _I’m going to die in this hellscape and who’s going to know? Is this even real? Is my body lying dead on the floor at home and this is my punishment for messing with something I didn’t understand?_

A thousand thoughts, each worse than the last, flooded her mind until she found herself staring at a large bridge. A set of wooden pillars rested on each side of the bridge, connected by another plank of wood. Darkness stretched endlessly below the bridge, and Amaryllis gulped at the idea of falling forever into the black abyss.

The air here smelled thick and coppery like… “Blood.” She whispered.

“H U M A N.” Came a deep voice behind her, sending shivers up her spine. Stiffly, she peered over her shoulder to find a sentient skeleton smirking at her behind lidded eye…sockets? Socket might be the proper term to use here, as one of his eyes appears to have been sewn shut with a vibrant purple thread while the other contains a small glowing orb that serves as a pupil. The left half of his mouth had a similar thread weaved through, though that doesn’t seem to prevent him from smiling at her with that strange malleable mouth of his.

His hands are shoved into the pockets of a loose gray hoodie and a pair of worn, knee length shorts cover his boney legs. Completing the look is a pair of dirty slippers that Amaryllis briefly notes is incredibly inappropriate for this cold weather. More purple threading seems to hold his joints (and shorts) together, and she wonders if he isn’t perhaps some sort of… very tall… puppet brought to life.

“Don’t you know how to greet a new friend?” He says stiffly, smile growing slightly larger. Pulling one hand from his pocket, he extends it in a greeting. “Shake my hand kid. S’rude not to.” He continues, ominously.

His wrist seems to be held together by more purple thread, and in the center of his boney palm rests a button. “Where am I?” She asks, ignoring his outstretched hand. Something tells her she shouldn’t shake it.

Shrugging, he places his hand back in his pockets and continues to smile at her. “Where do you think you are?” He asks cryptically.

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be asking you, now would I?” Something tells her she should be afraid of this being, but she’s too cold to care. She just wants to go home.

Something flashes dangerously across his face, “Well what do I get if I tell you?” 

This guy must be messing with her. Why oh why did the only help for miles have to be this asshat? Searching her pockets for anything she could pay him with, she turns up empty handed. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to give you.”

“Tch.” He scoffs, smile dropping slightly. “If you have nothing to offer, then why’d you call me?”

Call him? Is he crazy, she didn’t call—wait… Is this… did she… could this person be, “Karma?” She asks dumbly.

He gives her a mock salute with two fingers before tilting his head slightly, “The one and only, Little Witch. Now what can I do for you?”

It was real. The old lady wasn’t crazy and she’s just summoned some… demon? Is that what he is? He doesn’t look anything like what she’d pictured but this place and his body… it’s too much.

But… well she’s already done the spell, right? There’s no turning back now… so she straightens her back and steels her resolve, she only gets one chance at this and she’s thought hard about what she wants.

“I just want to be happy, can you help with that?”

He gives her an appraising look, clearly a little caught off guard by her request. “I’m sure I can manage. What’d you have in mind? Money? Power? ‘Accidental’ death of a rival?”

“What? No! I don’t want anybody to die! I just…” She holds a hand up to her heart, “I just don’t want to be heartbroken anymore…”

He stares at her with an expression she can’t quite place, and she squirms slightly under his gaze. After several agonizing moments he finally breaks the silence, “I’ll see what I can do Little Witch.” He extends his hand once more, and this time she shakes it. “In the meantime, it’s time for you to get back. _While you still can_.”

“What does that meeeeeaaaa—” Her question is cut off as she’s pushed over the edge of the cliff behind her by the strange demon.

“See you soon Little Witch.” He calls after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is meant to just be a short, and not a whole story with TONS of world building, I'd like to note that in catler's CraftTale, mages seem to be a known thing in the world (at least that's what I picked up from their AU info sheet) but for the sake of naivety in my MC, she's from a small town that's never had a mage, so they aren't really certain what she is and neither is she. 
> 
> I'd also like to mention the possibility of multiple chapters for some pairings, and the possibility of different characters for soultraits (mostly so I can write in more pairings because there are just too many AU's to choose from!!)
> 
> Hope you're enjoying ^3^


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